His Hands, Her Bullet
by MortalHeartImmortalSoul
Summary: We're at his funeral. I can't even say his name without wanting to punch a hole through the wall. But I still dwell on the fact that he never deserved to breathe in the first place.
1. Chapter 1

**Me: Don't even ask what the hell made me want to write this. It's darker than I usually write. I thought of it while riding in the car. Once again, don't ask. And this will be in someone's POV, but I'm not telling you who it is right now. You shall figure it out. Now, on with the story!**

We were at his funeral. I can't even say his name without wanting to punch a hole through a wall. The three of us were sitting together. All looking solemnly at his casket that hadn't been buried yet. No tears were shed. We just looked on.

The cause of his death was a bullet through the head. The investigators came to the conclusion that it was suicide. But here are some facts to dwell on.

Did they ever find the gun used? No.

Did they find it odd that he didn't commit suicide anywhere near his home? May not be odd, but it may be something to think about. No one gave it a second thought.

Did anyone find it odd that his girlfriend didn't seem too distraught over his death? I'm not sure they even noticed. Of course, that's just the way she is about things like this.

Everyone found the fact that he committed suicide perfectly believable. Only the three of us knew the truth. And only the three of us would ever know the truth.

But I can think about this, can't I? I can dwell over the fact of how the mess all started. The fact that if he changed his actions he wouldn't be dead. The fact that I'm happy he isn't around anymore.

The fact that he never deserved to breathe in the first place.

**Me: I know it kind of sucked. Just the prologue. This will probably be only two chapters. I'd love to hear in your reviews whose point of view this is in and who's dead. I already have it planned out, but you can always voice your opinion. I will try and update soon. Of course, if you don't review, than I won't continue. SO REVIEW PEOPLE, REVIEW! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Haven't touched this in forever, have I? Sorry about that. Pleasedon'thateme!**

**Anyway: Chapter 1. AKA the conclusion to His Hands Her Bullet.**

It was a rather simple day. My best friend and I got bored, so we went and did the obvious thing: Went looking for something to do. We found some trainers wanting to, well, train, so we battled them in a double battle. We won. I went to give my friend and battle partner a high five, and she…flinched.

Briana Dragonois, my fearless best friend, flinched when I went to give her a high five. Warning bells went off in my head.

"You okay, Bria?" I asked cautiously. She looked at me blankly. "You just flinched. I went to give you a high five. You looked like you though I was about to hit you or something." She shook her head and smiled at me.

"Of course I'm okay. I didn't flinch. Silly Ash, you must be imagining things," Bria said, still smiling. I looked at her, attempting to see whether or not she was lying. But I'm not good with seeing this kind of stuff, so eventually I gave up. I simply nodded, knowing that if I tried to pry she'd shut me out even more.

"Alright then," I said slowly, my brown eyes searching her blue orbs one last time before turning away. "I'll see you later, I guess," I said. She usually went to New Bark to spend time with her boyfriend. That guy doesn't seem right, but I shouldn't care as long she's happy, right?

Right?

Briana nodded. "See you later," she said, walking away.

Little did I know how soon "later" would be.

My mom was out that night, so I had the house to myself. It was raining like nobody's business, thunder booming and lightning flashing every once in a while. This made me wonder, "Can lightning really only strike in one place once?"

I was about to go to sleep when I realized it was one o'clock in the morning. But, of course, someone knocked on my door.

"_Who the hell is outside knocking at this time of night?"_ I thought, opening the door. I was shocked to see who was out of their minds tonight.

Briana.

She was kneeling on my porch, soaked, breathing heavily and sobbing. "Bria?" I asked quietly. I was only met with more sobs. I knelt down; bring her face up to meet mine.

Oh yes, she had definitely been crying.

I led her into the house, trying to keep her calm. I realized I was basically dragging her through the door, not really leading her. I set her down on the couch gently, trying to no avail to stop her tears. She calmed down after, a while, and finally said something to me.

"Nothing's alright."

**Y"know how I said this was the conclusion? Yeah, I lied. There's going to be more. Not much more, but more. Why? Because I felt like it. I'm just awesome like that. Now, please review. That'd be nice. Just click that button that says review. Yes, that one. The one your mouse better be hovering over.**


	3. Author's Note

**Is anyone even reading this anymore?**

**If you are, I bet I know what you're thinking. "Sweet, an update after so freaking long!" *clicks* "What is this?" I know I suck for an author's note, but I have something to tell you guys. I decided to rewrite this story and post it on FictionPress. Your link, if you choose to read it, is here: s/3051257/1/His_Hands_Her_Bullet Keep in mind that, if I decide to keep this story up at all, **_**will not be updated until the rewrite is finished. **_**I don't plan on taking months at a time to update the rewrite, so it shouldn't take that long. I hope you guys read the rewrite and enjoy it. :D**


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